Break me. Crack me open And taste the tide. Follow the bright, The brandy-hued light That leads to forever. Look skyward. Gaze into depths Of
I talk of time as if I Held it. Saw it. Touched it. But I only know its shadow. I see its daily birth, Watching
Too soon we seem die Too late we finally live Time to fail at both © Brandewulf 2018 Another flower from my home planet
I recall the time Such beauty I first beheld Never will I leave © Brandewulf 2018 I wrote about this bromeliad in a poem last year
So sublime these hands of time. One passing two. Another the third. Never they end nor can we bend them To cease this theoretical construct.
Chaos in alone Unlike when our fingers touch. A world in balance